


The Gravity of Your Call

by momojuusu



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Happy Ending, Healing, M/M, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-09-14 01:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momojuusu/pseuds/momojuusu
Summary: Stars only fall for those who have summoned them.Stars only fall for those who have made contracts with them.Stars don’t randomly fulfill someone’s wish.Suho knows it all. Suho knows he is under a contract with his summoner. However, instead of falling into the one who summoned him, an unfamiliar deep, begging voice pulls him down like gravity, leaving him no choice but to fall into it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Effective Fest  
> Prompt #R267: Chanyeol is in miserable and unhappy place. He goes to Han river to end it all, but wishes upon a star instead. His life changes drastically.

_“I want to end this. I want to die.”_

It echoed in Suho’s ear over and over again and he wondered why. He was on the way to his first mission. He shouldn’t hear anything else besides the voice of the one who had the ‘contract’ with him.

Then, why this deep voice spoke louder than anything else?

People believed that shooting stars made dreams come true. It wasn’t wrong, but there was something most people didn’t know. Stars didn’t fall for random people. Stars fell for someone who summoned them. Stars fell for those who had sacrificed something like the payment of their wishes. And tonight, Suho was falling for the one who had paid for his service, and they definitely weren’t the owner of the voice he was hearing right now.

This was his first mission. He shouldn’t ruin it. He shouldn’t change direction without notice and go to the place where the voice was heard. There was someone who was waiting for him. There was someone who had tied him with a contract.

Then, why did he do something he shouldn’t do?

He wondered himself.

Maybe whoever making the contract with him could wait. He guessed they could wait. But, this person, his heart told him to go to them before everything was too late.

_“I want to die. I want to die.”_

The voice was getting louder, telling Suho that it was near. “You can’t die,” he whispered as he kept falling.“Wait for me. You can’t die just yet.”

As if the voice’s owner could hear him, the next words coming from them were begging for help desperately—helplessly.

_“Shooting star,”_ they said, _“I wonder if a shooting star could help me. Help me. Help help help help help.”_

A figure came in sight. Suho knew it was them. A tall man, he could tell. It was only a silhouette at first, but it got more and more clear as the _“Help me help me help me help me”_ got louder and louder.

“Don’t die!”

A pair of eyes got rounded when he landed _literally_ on the human male. Plump lips gaped, and after that, the voice which had been ringing in his head for a while. “What the f—”

“Don’t die!” Suho repeated, cutting the man’s words midway. “I’m not letting you die!”

The man underneath shot him a puzzled look. Understandable since someone just _fell from the sky along with the shooting star and crashed into him_. “Who—who are you?”

A smile appeared on Suho’s pretty face, stretching his pinkish lips proudly. “I’m Suho,” he answered. “I’m a star falling to grant your wish.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t even know who he is. He was like… falling from the sky. He said he’s a star—no, Sehun. A star. A _literal_ star. I don’t know if he’s lying, but he is _sparkling. There is stardust around him._ It’s weird, you know. Even weirder because he wears… something that looks like Gandalf the White’s cloak. What kind of person wearing that when going to Han River? No, _what kind of person wearing that around?_ And now he’s following me around… I can’t bring him home. The situation is—I know, I know. That’s why I need your help—”

Suho sat across from the man, who was talking to a… weird thing he’d never seen before. _Human’s stuff,_ he thought, _how could that small little thing talk? It doesn’t look like a living thing at all._

His eyes scanned through the new surrounding. Everything was so strange to him. He remembered his brothers, Xiumin and Chen, once said that the human world was very different yet interesting, and now Suho knew it was true when he experienced it himself. Some adjustment would be needed to get familiar with how humans lived and their technology, and it excited him.

The man was still talking to the strange device. Suho was fine for a few minutes, but now it took too long for his liking, and it got him a bit impatient. Not doing anything made his thought wander to his original mission. Right, he had violated the rules and it was only his first job after a long wait. He should get things done with this man as soon as possible before his supervisor found him doing this… illegal work.

He sighed and shook his head, not wanting to think about the consequences he would get for doing this. Trying to distract himself, he examined the table in front of him. On the table was a cup with dark brown liquid. It was hot when he touched the cup’ surface. Weird, he had never seen something like that before. Curiously, he took the glass and sipped the liquid, carefully not to burn his tongue, eyes sparkling when his tongue sensed a sweet taste. It was nothing like what he usually drank, but it was so, so delicious that he fell in love with it immediately.

Suho was too absorbed in the new sensation on his tongue that he didn’t realize the man had been done talking to the small thing in his hand. He recognized it later, smiling brightly when their eyes met.

“What’s your name?” the man asked deliberately.

“Suho. What’s yours?”

Instead of giving him the name, the man continued with more questions. “Where are you from? Why are you sparkling? Are you even human?”

Suho tilted his head at those questions. He had told this man that he was a star, had he not?

“Of course I’m sparkling. I’m a star, haven’t I told you?”

The man didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. “You know you didn’t sound make sense at all, no?”

Suho frowned a bit. Why did he not sound make sense when he only said the truth? He wasn’t sure what he should say next, so he just kept quiet.

“Where are you from, then? You haven’t answered that one.”

The question brought a memory of his home, such a beautiful place full of wonder. He pointed upward, toward the sky, where he belonged to; his voice that followed behind was soft, “From up there.”

 

* * *

 

Suho pouted. This wasn’t supposed to turn this way. He had broken the rules for this man. He didn’t even think to take something from him as an equal payment. He had ruined his mission and he was doing it for free. Then, how could that ungrateful man do this to him? He should be with the man whose wish he would grant, not with this Sehun Oh guy, whoever he was!

“Why did he throw me away? He made a wish, so I came to him straight away! I shouldn’t have even done that! Now why did he let you take me? I’m not going to make your wish come true!” he whined.

Sehun, a tall man with no expression on his face (according to Suho, who a little bit freaked out by it, afraid that Sehun would enslave him), only sighed. “He didn’t throw you away. Bringing you home would only make another mess in his life,” he said. “Besides, he doesn’t even know you— _we_ don’t know you. Who are you? Why are you sparkling? Is that some kind of magic trick?”

Suho huffed, tired of such questions. “I’m sparkling because I’m a star. This is not magic; this stardust is part of me.”

“That doesn’t make sense at all.”

“But that’s the truth!”

“Alright, alright, star,” Sehun gave in. “Star or not, I won’t treat you special. I let you stay here because he _begged_ me for it _because you didn’t want to go home._ I’ll take you home tomorrow.”

“You can’t take me home, my mission here hasn’t even started yet!”

Sehun’s eyebrow quirked. “What mission?”

“Why are you humans never want to listen?” Suho grumbled. “I’ve told you multiple times that I’m a star, right? Stars fall to make humans’ wishes come true. You never heard about it?”

“Well… you never heard yourself? You sound like a five-year-old kid talking about their dream last night.”

“Does this stardust not give you enough proof?”

Sehun fell into a silence, maybe because he thought it could be right, or maybe because he was tired of telling Suho that he sounded like a kid with extraordinary fantasy.

“You’re not one of his crazy ex-fans, are you?” After a moment, the human was back with another question. “Listen, if you’re only here to put more troubles, you’d better go. I know you all hate him for what he’s done, but he’s got what he deserved, okay? I won’t hesitate to call the police if you make a mess with him.”

Suho blinked, face clearly saying that he didn’t understand what Sehun meant. “I’m here to help. He wanted a help, so I’ll give him one.”

“Help? What help?”

For a few seconds, hesitation appeared on Suho’s face. The mission was confidential and it should stay that way, but Sehun’s sharp eyes pierced into him, as though telling him that Sehun could do something really bad if he refused to open his mouth.

_“What help?”_

Sehun sounded demanding. Suho gulped.

“It’s—it’s something about his life. About—about staying alive. I’m helping him with that.”

Sehun’s— _scary_ —expression changed. Now he looked worried, Suho wondered why. Another sigh, this time was long and heavy, escaped his lips as he sat on the couch. “What did he tell you?” he asked. “Did he tell you he wanted to die or something?”

Suho chewed his lower lip. He couldn't answer that. If he did, it would reveal everything. However,  Sehun didn’t press him anymore. The human just sat there, eyes staring at nothing. There was an uncomfortable silence before Sehun’s voice jolted Suho.

“If you really are a star, can you really help him escape this situation? He’s arrogant and irritating, but deep inside he’s not a bad guy, you know. He needs help; he really does. So, if you’re a star—” Sehun didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he laughed at his own words. “Fuck, now I sounded as crazy as you.”

Suho could get offended by that, by how Sehun didn’t believe him and mocked him as though he was someone with lunatic mental, but he didn’t. He heard the same begging tone, the same helpless whisper hiding behind the distrust; he felt like deep inside, Sehun was hoping for a miracle to happen to his friend, and the miracle was coming from Suho’s hands.

This time, Suho chose to keep silent.

 

* * *

 

There were people in that flat and thin thing. They were talking about something Suho didn’t understand. There was also anything else—a box with tires? Suho stared at them curiously. _They’re moving. Are those human transportations? Interesting._

“Stop looking at the TV like it’s an alien thing,” Suho turned his head around to see Sehun entering the room. “And why are you still sparkling?”

“How many times should I told you that this stardust is part of me?” Suho grunted. “What is this, anyway?”

Sehun didn’t answer right away. He had this puzzled look on his face and Suho only blinked, waiting for a reply.

“It’s a TV. How could you not know what it is?” the human finally replied to him in a disbelief tone.

“I don’t have something like this up there. Our technologies are different. Human technology is interesting.”

Suho focused on the TV, but he could feel Sehun’s eyes on him. He couldn’t care less, though, because he was too stunned with this new thing he’d never seen before. He had heard many things about the human world from his brothers, but to see it with his own eyes was something amazing.

“Hey,” He heard Sehun called him, “are you really—”

“Oh, it’s him!” Suho suddenly shouted when he saw the man’s face on the screen. It showed that he was in front of a fancy building, and many people surrounded him with some kind of devices carried on their shoulders. It was so noisy, but the text at the bottom of the screen explained the situation.

**_RENOWNED COMPOSER SCANDAL OUTBREAK._ **

_“Renowned composer Chanyeol Park allegedly impregnated the youngest daughter of the CEO of Kwak & Co., Saebyul Kwak. Until today, Chanyeol Park still refuses to give a word…” _

“She really did that. He’s never done that. I mean, they had sex, but she’s not pregnant with his child. It’s all a lie. She uses her father’s power to make things up.”

Sehun’s voice sounded so far away as Suho put his focus on what the news said. He approached the TV and knelt in front of it, fingers warily touched the surface, just right when the man’s face appeared.

He looked hopeless. His eyes were begging for help. And with that, Suho could hear his voice again. _“Stop it. Stop coming. Stop asking. I’m tired. I’m—I’m scared. Please don’t do this to me.”_

A painful feeling clenched his heart. Was this empathy? He felt like the man’s pain was his, even though they barely knew each other. Maybe there was this connection between them that made Suho feel what the man felt.

“You… are you really a… _star_?”

Suho didn’t need to ask why Sehun asked. He was sure the human could see him floating a few inches from the floor with two trails of silver tears on his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

Sehun forced him to wear his clothes, which were obviously too big for him. “Even if we can’t hide your stardust, at least you should look like a decent human being in this era. I bet the press has been there and we can’t draw their attention,” was the reason Sehun gave him. Suho was left with no choice. If he wanted to meet Chanyeol Park, then he should do whatever he could do not to put any more troubles. That was why, even though Sehun’s hoodie (Sehun said it was the name) drowned his body, and he should roll the pants up to his ankles, and he was struggling walking with Sehun’s oversized shoes, he still did it.

As what Sehun had guessed, there were many people he previously saw on the morning news in front of Chanyeol’s door. When they saw them coming, they quickly approached them, which managed to get Suho dizzy and confused. It was such a horrible experiment; thanks to Sehun for protecting him so that they could enter Chanyeol’s place alive.

The place was huge but untidy. There were empty bottles and dirty plates scattering around when they walked past the living room, and among them was the man, Chanyeol Park. Suho heard Sehun scoffing as he saw his friend sleeping on the couch, not bothered by the mess around him.

“Chanyeol,” Sehun called the name while grabbing the sleeping man’s shoulder, shaking it. “Hey, wake up.”

It needed some effort until Chanyeol opened his eyes. He growled as he sat up, hand grabbing his own head. “The fuck, Sehun,” His voice was hoarse.

“You’re a mess, dude. She really tried to bring you down,” Sehun slumped onto the couch, pushing Chanyeol over. “This place is also a mess… you live like an animal.”

Suho watched as Chanyeol got up; their eyes met when the tall man turned around. He could only offer his smile—which was too bright for this kind of situation—even though Chanyeol only stared at him blankly.

“Why are you still here?” was what he said after a brief moment of pause. “Sehun, I thought you’d bring him home today.”

“I might need a rocket if I wanted to bring him home,” Sehun said without looking at his friend. “I sounded crazy, didn’t I? But you said last night that he fell from the sky, and this morning I saw him floating in front of my TV, and he cried silver, sparkling tears, and yes, why would we deny that he isn’t even human when _he literally has stardust around him?_ ”

The look on Chanyeol’s face was unreadable. The uncertainty of whether Chanyeol would give a positive response or not was rather uncomfortable, and the quietness following behind just made everything worse.

“I can help you,” After a moment of torturing silence, Suho finally spoke, voice soft, as though he was afraid he would make Chanyeol explode. “I’m here to help you. I’m here because you _asked_ for it.”

“I never asked for anything.”

“You did! You did. I heard you last night. You—you asked for help. I could hear you clearly I came to you. I came _for_ you,” Suho’s eyes softened; the next words coming from him was spoken with a low, gentle voice. “I heard you this morning. You wanted them to stop—stop coming, stop asking. You’re tired. You’re _scared._ I heard everything.”

And, that was that. He could see everything in Chanyeol’s eyes, as clear as daylight. Anger and fear, sadness and loneliness—Chanyeol suddenly became an open book to him. However, the composer’s reaction wasn’t what he had expected.

“You should leave,” The voice sounded even lower and _dangerous_ as he spoke. “Leave and don’t come back. I don’t need your help.”

It was cold and sharp, and Suho shuddered. Sehun seemed to notice it, too, thus he shoved himself on his feet to grab Chanyeol on his shoulder, pulling it so that the man could face him properly.

“He was trying to be of help,” Sehun tried to defend Suho. “He might be your only hope, Chanyeol.”

“Help? What help?” The pair of eyes was even sharper than the cold words he uttered. “What kind of help you can give? Can you make those people in front of my door disappear forever? Can you go back to the past and stop me from starting this mess? _Can you fix_   _m_ _e?_ What can you help me? _No one can help me!_ ”

_I need help. I need help. Please. I don’t want to be alone. I’m afraid of loneliness. Help me._

The voice that echoed in Suho’s head said otherwise. Chanyeol Park’s heart always told the truth. It was sad, how this man tried to look strong, as though he could handle this catastrophe himself when truthfully, he just needed someone beside him—someone who could read his heart like an open book so that he shouldn’t have to explain himself. He was too tired to do it. Suho knew it.

Slowly, Suho reached for Chanyeol’s hand, fingers slipping perfectly between Chanyeol’s. The stardust around him made its way to Chanyeol’s arm, spreading upward like a warm silk until it wrapped the human, giving some comfort Suho knew Chanyeol needed.

_Easy,_ he didn’t say it out loud, but he was certain Chanyeol could hear his voice clearly. _I’m not going to leave you alone._

Chanyeol seemed dazed, but at the same time, he also looked more relaxed than before. He didn’t say anything when Suho released the grip on his hand, not protesting when the star walked to the front door and opened it.

“H-Hey, Suho! What are you doing?!” Sehun sounded panicky, but Suho remained calm; _he knew what he was doing._

The door was open, making the people outside alarmed. They were ready with their devices, not hesitating to flood Suho with questions like, _“Who are you?”, “What is your relation with Chanyeol Park?”,_ or _“Can you give some words to the case?”_

Even for Suho, who still couldn’t get a good grasp on what was going on, these people were disturbing. He wasn’t sure who they were, but judging from how loud and _barbaric_ they were, it was very understandable if Chanyeol was pressed by them.

Sighing, Suho let the stardust flow surrounding the mass of people, floating around their heads. _This shouldn’t be done,_ said a small voice in his head—his own voice, the rational one (which Suho wondered where it was when he first decided to go to Chanyeol instead of the one whom he should have been with now).

His heart, though, tugged his decision in the opposite direction. He closed his eyes, words echoing his head, and he knew it also worked inside those people’s mind.

_Go. Go. Go. Don’t come back._

It took a few seconds until Sehun’s voice made him open his eyes again.

“What exactly were you doing?”

Suho turned around to find Sehun standing behind him, but his eyes quickly went to the one who froze on his spot as he witnessed Suho made the press go.

Chanyeol averted his gaze to anywhere but Suho’s direction when their eyes met. Suho could only make a small smile.

 

* * *

 

Chanyeol let Suho stay with him—or Sehun made Chanyeol let Suho stay with him, it didn’t matter, actually. Now, he was sitting on the bed in the guest room, waiting for Chanyeol to bring him clothes to change. The man entered the room not long after, a pair of white pajamas in his hands.

Suho muttered a thank you as he accepted the clothes. He waited for Chanyeol to get out of the room, but surprisingly, the human didn’t. It was awkward to stay like that, especially when Chanyeol just kept quiet for the next minutes.

Only after it felt like a century when Chanyeol spoke. “... What you did to me?” he asked cautiously. “What you did to the press?”

Suho didn’t expect Chanyeol to ask about it. “I helped you feel better,” he answered, “and I made them go, just like what you wanted.”

“I know that, but how did you do it?” Suho didn’t know why Chanyeol looked… frustrated. “What kind of magic did you use? How could they go just like that when you didn’t even say anything to them?”

“I’m… not sure how to answer that. I just have that ability,” Putting the pieces of clothes on the bed, Suho, for the second time in the day, took Chanyeol’s hands into his smaller ones. Once again, he let the stardust float gracefully around Chanyeol’s body, sharing its warmth with the human. “We, stars, were born to grant humans’ wishes. It’s more complicated than what you humans know about… wishing upon a star, but part of it is true. We fall for those who ask us to fall and do our jobs. We are here to clear obstacles in your path, helping you reach what you’ve desired of.”

“But I never—I never asked you to fall. Even if I did, I didn’t remember that.”

There was uncertainty in Suho’s expression, but he hid it by ducking his head, not letting Chanyeol see it. It wasn’t something he could answer since he, himself, didn’t know the answer. He still had no clue of why Chanyeol’s voice could be some kind of magnets that pulled him down without mercy, making him forget about the original task he should do, not caring about what might happen if his supervisor or even the council members found out about it.

“Maybe you didn’t, but your heart did,” was the only thing Suho could give as the most rational answer. He couldn’t think of anything else because he didn’t understand what was wrong himself.

He knew Chanyeol wasn’t satisfied with it, but he couldn’t help it. He let go of the man’s hands, not saying anything until the man went back to his own room.

 

* * *

 

_How many rules have I broken since I first came here?_

Lying in his bed, Suho’s mind wandered. It had been, what, almost two days? It had been almost two days and he had broken some rules, and it was only his first mission!

His first mistake was, obviously, when he changed direction in the middle of his mission. It was his biggest fault, to let himself lose to Chanyeol’s begging voice. Although he didn’t know how Chanyeol’s voice could be louder than the voice of the one who summoned him, he was still not allowed to make a change without consulting his supervisor.

The second, he cut any connection with anyone related to him, including his brothers. He didn’t let anyone track him once he decided to go to Chanyeol. It must be his instinct; it would be dangerous for Chanyeol if someone found out about Suho ruining his mission for another human. He couldn’t risk Chanyeol taking suicide because he refused to reach out to him.

The last—but not least, he had a feeling—was that he used his power in front of human beings aside from the one who summoned him. Other than that, he also used it to make a group of people do what he wanted them to do when knew that using his power to stir one’s mind was prohibited—Suho congratulated himself for breaking two rules in one go. Calming Chanyeol was allowed (actually, not really, remembering Chanyeol was his _illegal_ case), but chasing people away using mind control was not because it was obviously against their will. Suho would get himself into a huge trouble once he was found.

Consider him lucky now because he was still safe and no one looked for him. But, he was aware that he couldn’t hide forever. Once this case was over, like it or not, he should go back and face the punishment. He knew he couldn’t avoid it; he didn’t even plan to explain himself. Everything was his fault and he had no reasonable reasons behind it.

The sound of glass breaking outside made his ears perk; the groan that followed behind forced him to get up and go outside in a hurry. The sight of Chanyeol sitting on the floor with head in his hands was the first thing he saw, the same bottles Suho found earlier today around him, one shattering into pieces, some liquid pooling on the shiny tiles. On the table, a small device was ringing nonstop—Suho noticed it as the device Chanyeol talked to when they first met.

“Stop it,” Chanyeol groaned. “Stop calling me. Stop. Stop. _Stop!_ ”

Suho rushed to Chanyeol’s side, dropping to his knees. “Chanyeol…” His next movement was hesitant. He touched the man’s shoulder as gently as he could, as though any rough action would harm the human.

Chanyeol raised his head, and Suho couldn’t tell if he was still sober. His face was red, eyes unfocused. “I need them to disappear,” When he spoke, Suho could smell a strong scent, which he noticed was the scent of the liquid in the bottles. “I need _her_ to stop.”

Suho didn’t know what to say. When Chanyeol put his head on Suho’s shoulder—when he curled like a gigantic yet fragile ball against Suho’s tinier body, Suho could only hold him close, one arm circling protectively against the human’s shoulders. He could feel Chanyeol embracing him back, two tight fists gripping the back of his shirt.

“Sleep,” Suho murmured as his stardust calmed Chanyeol down. Slipping his fingers in Chanyeol’s wavy hair, he continued, “You’ll have a sweet dream tonight.”

For the rest of the night, Suho let the stardust do its wonderful job of keeping nightmares away from Chanyeol.


	2. Chapter 2

He had been in the bed when he woke up the next morning. Sitting up, he yawned, feeling more tired than ever. God, he hadn’t even started anything, but things had exhausted him. He pushed the warm blanket away and shoved his body to his feet, a bit wobbly as he walked outside.

Chanyeol was busy with that small device again. Their eyes met for a few seconds, but the human quickly moved his gaze away and continued focusing on the conversation. From the look on his face, Suho could tell that the topic wasn’t so pleasant; Chanyeol looked tense, and it meant something bad happened.

“Chanyeol?” Suho called after Chanyeol finished talking. “Is everything okay?”

“Nothing’s okay in my life,” The human sighed, hand running through his hair, bringing it backward. “I should go taking care of something. You be good at home, don’t go anywhere. I still have something in the fridge in case you’re hungry.”

“Can I come with you?”

“You can’t.”

“Then how can I help you?”

“This isn’t something you can help. I should hold a press conference to clarify things. It won’t be that bad,” He reached for his cap and some small things that one of them was a key. He walked toward the front door, but before his hand could reach the handle, he stopped. “Suho?”

“Yes?”

“If anything happened, I could reach out to you, right? I mean… you can hear me, right? And I can hear you?”

Suho took a moment to take a full grasp of what Chanyeol said before he nodded with a smile. He approached the male, hand offered out, waiting to be held. “Do you need this?” he asked. “For luck?”

Chanyeol looked at the hanging hand, seemingly thinking about it, but after that, a smile bloomed as he took it. The stardust gracefully connected them, sending the wave of comfort surrounding the human.

“For luck.”

 

* * *

 

_ Suho. Suho. Can you hear me? _

Suho was lying in his bed when Chanyeol’s voice popped into his head.  _ Something’s wrong? _ he asked, also in his head, knowing Chanyeol could hear him since he had opened the ‘mind portal’ for communication.

_ Too many people. Cameras. Lights. Questions. I can’t breathe. _

He bit down his lower lip, worries flashing on his face.  _ Do you need me to be there? _

_ Don’t. It’s a mess. You don’t wanna be here. Just… just talk to me, okay? Talk to me. _

_ Okay. _

Suho pushed his body up and walked outside. The TV was on—Chanyeol left it like that and Suho didn’t know how to turn it off—and he noticed the woman on the screen was talking about Chanyeol. A scene appeared after that, showing Chanyeol sitting among some people, talking about his case. In front of him looked like those people from yesterday, still with those devices in their hands.

_ You’re on, uh, TV. _

_ I’m a trending topic lately. No wonder. _

_ Is everything okay, though? I don’t… I don’t really understand the situation. _

_ Nothing’s okay, but this isn’t the worst. _

_ I want to help. _

_ You’re helping now.  _ There was a sigh in that tone.  _ I hope I could go home and eat something nice. My mother used to make me the most delicious kimchi fried rice back then. I missed it a lot. _

_ Kimchi fried rice? _

_ Yes. Kimchi fried rice. _

Suho stared at the TV, watching every movement Chanyeol made, but his mind was going somewhere else.

_ Kimchi fried rice. _

 

* * *

 

“Did you say he almost  _ burned down my kitchen _ ?”

“He made an explosion, yes. In your kitchen. But the fire was quickly gone. He used… you know. The stardust. But he seemed to run out of energy before he could fix everything.”

“And  _ why did he blew up my kitchen again? _ ”

“No idea, man.”

Actually, kimchi fried rice were the keywords. Suho trying to cook was what happened, and if Sehun didn’t come right in time, Chanyeol might have lost a place to stay.

Suho was sitting on the floor in his room, at the corner where he could curl into a terrified ball when Chanyeol stepped in. He made a mess, yes, and now he just wanted to cry and beg Chanyeol to forgive him. The human must be mad at him. Chanyeol had had problems weighing on his shoulders, and Suho just brought him another mess! He was so determined to change Chanyeol’s life, but it seemed he just made things worse.

“What have you done to my kitchen?!” The door threw opened and Chanyeol’s voice boomed in the room, causing Suho to tremble in both fear and guilt. “Suho,  _ my kitchen exploded! _ ”

“I’m sorry,” His voice was a mere shaky whisper; he wasn’t even brave to face the human.

“What was on your mind? Did you try to make me lose my home or what? What were you trying to do? I don’t want any more trouble in my life and now you just brought me one, for fuck’s sake!”

“I was—I was trying to cook kimchi fried rice for you.”

There was a pause between them. Suho stayed still, hugging his knees even tighter when he heard Chanyeol’s footsteps, which stopped right in front of him.

“Do you even know what kimchi fried rice is?” Chanyeol’s tone was calmer. He was still annoyed, Suho could tell, but at least he didn’t shout anymore.

Suho shook his head. He knew he was being stupid, trying to make something when he didn’t even know what it was. “I’m sorry, Chanyeol,” His voice became weaker and weaker. He was so ashamed; he  _ forced _ Chanyeol to accept him, convincing the human that he was the only one who could help him, but in reality, he only made more trouble in Chanyeol’s life.

“You tried to make it because I said I missed my mother’s kimchi fried rice?” the human guessed, earning himself a nod from Suho, which made him sigh.

“I’m really sorry,” Suho apologized again, now with eyes fixing on the human’s ones. “I—I won’t do that again! I-I’ll try to fix the damage in your kitchen! Just—just don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry, Chanyeol, I really am!”

“Fix everything whenever you’re ready and we can pretend like nothing ever happened,” Chanyeol said. “And after that, I’ll teach you to cook without burning anything.”

 

* * *

 

It was such a tiring day. Fixing Chanyeol’s kitchen was the first thing he did when he got up, and fixing things was always exhausting. He did nothing after it, only lying on the couch and watching TV (Chanyeol gave him a short course of how to skip the channels so that now he could explore more) until Chanyeol came back home.

The human was home earlier than yesterday, but he looked more tired than Suho had ever seen. Suho’s eyes watched him slumping on the couch, heavy sigh leaving his lips. The human didn’t say anything, only taking the remote from Suho’s hand and looking for a channel that piqued his interest.

“How was day?” Suho braved himself to ask. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Is everything okay?”

“Okay,” Chanyeol answered without looking at Suho. “Was trying to be productive. I went to my studio. It’s been a while.”

Suho tilted his head. “Studio?”

The curiosity managed to make Chanyeol laugh. “You really know nothing about this world, huh,” he murmured before explaining, “It’s a place where I work. Making music. That’s my job.”

Suho didn’t really understand about it, but the keywords ‘making music’ gave him enough picture of the human’s work. “Does it make you happy? Your job.”

It took some time for Chanyeol to answer. Suho noticed doubt on his face, mixing with both sadness and, at the same time, happiness, and longing feelings. Suho didn’t know humans could feel so many feelings in one same second, and it got his chest feeling so full when he tried to read Chanyeol’s mind.

“It does, but sometimes it doesn’t. There are a lot of times when I just feel so stuck I don’t want to get close to anything related to music, but I can’t live without it, either. It’ just…” Chanyeol heaved another sigh, “... my life.”

“Does it keep you alive?” Suho might not realize, but he did lean forward, face close to Chanyeol’s as his curious eyes scanned the expression.

“Maybe. Yeah. But being alive is tiring lately.”

Just when Chanyeol’s dark orbs met him when Suho felt that their faces were inappropriately close. He pulled away, and Chanyeol seemed to smile at the bright red tints on his cheeks. “S-So,” His voice cracked a little as he spoke, “I haven’t heard about your… case. I still can’t get a grip on what’s going on with you. Do you care to explain?”

“Give me your stardust first. I’m exhausted.”

“You’ve become addicted to it.”

Their fingers tangled together, and Suho recognized how big Chanyeol’s hand was compared to his.

 

* * *

 

Chanyeol was at the top of his career. The way he had paved was rough, but eventually, he made it, anyway. He had loved music since he was a boy; music was his soul. His father was against him, but he couldn’t care less. He was young, he was full of dreams and idealism. He would fight for what he loved, and he did. Being kicked out of the house never stopped him to go to music college after high school. His mother and his close friends helped him a lot during those hard days.

He was brilliant. He always had the talent in music and he knew it. He learned hard to be the best in the field, trying to shine as bright as he could to leave an unforgettable impression. His passion and ambition kept him on track, graduating with the perfect score, but he knew the real world outside his college was rougher. He was still green and no one would see him the way he wanted them to see him. It took years to get recognized by people, years of tears and blood, years of hard work.

He had gone through hellish, exhausting, depressing years, and when he reached what he had always dreamt of, it relieved every pain, dried every drop of tears. Seeing the songs he composed was on top chart, knowing many, many people listened to his music—it was his dream come true. He made his dream come true. He got the name—he got the fame.

However, it wasn’t the only thing he got. Along with it, came loneliness. Emptiness. The longer he dived into this industry, the more he realized that everything was fake. Everyone wore a mask in front of him, trying to please him to get a name. Friends or foes, he couldn’t differentiate. People were wolves in sheep’s clothing.

He could be partying with some friends, but the moment he came home, the silent that rang in his ears was killing him. He worked hard, partied even harder, but he couldn’t avoid the empty void in his chest. He hid behind cigarettes and alcohol, among loud thumps of music in every nightclub he visited, under wanton moans of women—sometimes men—he slept with, but it just didn’t help. It didn’t reduce the pain.

He didn’t stop, though. It became a habit; it was his lifestyle. He would’ve tried drugs if Sehun, one of those rare people he trusted, wasn’t with him. He would’ve done something bad if Sehun didn’t stop him. He was living a hellish life, but at least Sehun got his back.

But, in the end, he still fucked up. His meeting with Saebyul was his downfall, being her friend-with-benefit was so wrong, and having her accused him of being the one responsible for the baby in her belly put him on edge. He knew how manipulative she could be; he also knew she could use her father’s power freely and he could do nothing when it was used against him.

Everything was getting too much to handle. It wasn’t like he got no troubles from the beginning of his fame. People had bad talked about him since they found out about his attitude. It was something he bitterly admitted, how he became an arrogant ass after people started ‘worshipping’ him. His drinking habit made it worse, and now his affair with Saebyul destroyed everything.

From his mother, he heard that his father didn’t want to see him anymore, especially after those bad news about him on TV. They cried together on their last phone call. God, he just wanted to go home. He missed his mother. He missed the scent of his own room. He missed his friends there. Hell, he even missed how his father scolded him every time he found his son making a song. He missed his imperfect yet simple life; he hated himself for ruining it.

He wanted to end everything. That was why he came to Han River that night. He just wanted to stop the pain. The loneliness. The emptiness. The hellish world he was living in.

But, Suho came right in time.

But, Suho could see the true desire of his: getting someone to help him be better.

But, Suho could give him the warmth among this cold, cruel life.

For the first time in those torturing years, he felt safe.

“Don’t leave me yet,” Suho heard him whispered as he buried his face on the star’s shoulder, stardust around him. “I still need you.”

Suho stroked Chanyeol’s dark hair, smiling comfortingly although Chanyeol couldn’t see it.

“I’m not leaving.”


End file.
